


Finally Fine

by mcal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Secret Relationship, Stress Baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 00:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18905665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcal/pseuds/mcal
Summary: It's fake dating and secret dating all rolled into one oneshot, with a little bit of Theo for dry humor. Dramione. Complete. Happy birthday niffizzle!





	Finally Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niffizzle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niffizzle/gifts).



> A/N: Happy Birthday to my dear friend niffizzle! You're an incredible writer and a precious friend in this fandom. I hope you enjoy this little bit of nonsense.  
> M for some language. Beta thanks to CourtingInsanity. All remaining errors are my own.
> 
> I own no part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

"But I have such a lovely collection, if you would just—"

"For the last time, Mother, _no_." Draco couldn't contain his scowl any longer. "This is only the third meeting, and a group dinner is hardly the proper time or place for such a statement."

"Perhaps it could be if you'd stop dragging your feet." Narcissa arched a narrow brow—a more befitting her Pureblood gesture to convey disapproval than folding one's arms over one's chest, in case words were insufficient.

Which could never be said of Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, his temples beginning to throb. "I'll explain this again: Astoria spends much of her time between Milan and Paris. The fact that we've been able to arrange these three meetings over the last six weeks has been a feat in and of itself. Please don't push things."

"All right," Narcissa conceded after a beat, for which Draco was thankful. None of what he'd said was _untrue_ , but he was growing uncomfortable with the number of omissions, half-truths, white lies that had so easily been sliding from his lips these past seven months, three weeks, and four days.

(Because one simply did _not_ forget when Hermione Granger _at last_ agreed to a date. She was too special a witch to _not_ commit a date like that to memory. Not that his mother was aware of his secret dating life, however.)

"If you'll excuse me now, Mother," Draco said, squaring his shoulders, "I have a dinner to prepare for."

His shell of composure held as he reached the portrait-less and empty hallway that led to his room; only then did he let loose an irritated sigh. Draco had never lied to his mother before, save for insignificant childish falsehoods, such as ' _No, I did not eat the last of the pudding',_ or ' _I won't fly too high or too fast_ '.

There had simply never been a need to keep anything from her; if it had been something he wanted, he would tell them, and either Mother or Father would see that he got it. In matters of grades, Mother always knew and trusted how hard he worked, even when Father would be angry that he'd come in second to Hermione Granger _again_.

He shouldn't have snapped downstairs, because none of this was his mother's fault, even if she was being too pushy for a third ' _date_ '—Draco scoffed at the word as he stormed into his room. Astoria was happily in love with a professional Quidditch player in the Spanish league, yet there was the issue of his age that kept her from coming clean to her parents.

He couldn't quite fault her for that.

Just as he couldn't quite fault Hermione in her request of secrecy for the time being.

He yanked a fist through his hair, stomping to his closet.

It had been enough of an ordeal in the aftermath of the ending of her relationship of Oliver Wood, and Draco had been her friend through it all, not daring to tell her until after they'd been in an established relationship that he may or may not have thanked Merlin, Salazar, and all the Founders the day she and Wood ended things.

The twat wasn't good enough for her, he'd told her.

He yanked at a plain white shirt, plain black tie and black jacket; classic, yet bland.

There was little point if he wasn't dressing up for Hermione; he could come back here and change before seeing her tonight. If she wasn't too busy with her baking, that was to say…

"Bugger," he swore, buttoning up the length of the shirt and fiddling with the buttons of the sleeves. Seven months, three weeks, and four days together. That was a significant time to be used to the idea of going public, as it were.

Yet Hermione hadn't even _acted_ jealous when Draco announced his mother had set him up for a first date with Astoria… Her eyes may have flashed when a second group outing had been planned, and she may have kissed him harder and made love to him all the deeper that night in her bed, but still…

No other change in her actions. _I love you, Draco,_ she'd said as easily as drawing breath.

He slammed his left arm into his jacket. She loved him, so why couldn't she—

"Do you have something against that particular jacket, or are you of the opinion that if you murder enough of your clothes, you'll get out of tonight?"

 _Theo_ … Draco groaned loud enough to be heard, shooting a side look across the room. The sod was leaning against the wall, buffing his nails on the upper sleeve of his dinner jacket like the smug knob who had everything he wanted in life.

Which he arguably did.

Draco's hands balled into fists, deciding it would be prudent to silently count to ten before answering. "Don't recall inviting you over before dinner." There. Crisp, but lacking too much bite, because it would only be projecting to react in spite.

Or some polite rubbish like that.

"You didn't, but I thought I'd check-in to see how you're faring." Theo's keen stare searched all about Draco a contemplative moment before he stood upright, slipping his hands in his pockets. "You seem to be doing about as I imagined."

Draco hummed, slipping his tie around his neck. "This is nothing. Hermione knows it's not. Astoria knows it's not, and is actually quite thankful it's not. I'll bring up tonight how we go about a public parting of ways—"

"What? Breaking up with Daphne's little sister?" Theo mocked. "And ruin the fun of double dates we've been having? Surely, you wouldn't do that to me…"

"I wouldn't be doing it to you. Or to Daphne." Draco's fingers mucked up the knot, forcing him to start over. He stood in front of the mirror, silently walking through the steps of tying a simple sodding tie. "According to _The Daily Prophet_ , I would be doing it entirely to myself, Astoria, and our mothers. Do you know Mum wanted me to find a bauble of sorts for Tori tonight?" He eyed his friend. "A fucking trinket… This has gone on too long and I'm putting an end it to it."

"And have you told Granger of your plans yet?" Theo's grin was positively predatorial, making Draco wonder what he had to be so smug about…

But something told him he didn't want to know. "Nope," he answered instead, deciding it was better he didn't know details while in this frame of mind. "She's acting all right with everything as is still, but maybe if Astoria's ready to come clean about what's-his-face, too…" He trailed off, looking back at his reflection

"I think you're full of shite." Theo scoffed. "You're telling me that your secret girlfriend of more than half-a-year is fine with you taking your fake girlfriend-to-be out on what will be a third date now?"

"Completely," Draco answered, adjusting his tie, trying to keep his heart from sinking as he forced the words out. "We've taken everything at Hermione's pace, and for the time being, she's completely fine."

* * *

"For the last time, Harry," Hermione said, pounding a fist in a lump of dough, "I'm completely—" _pound_ "—and utterly—" _smash_ "— _fine!"_

"Uh huh." There was a distinct note of disbelief in his voice, but Hermione's only acknowledgement was to slap the dough against the counter even harder. Harry expounded, "And the fact that you've suddenly taken up bread making on this particular evening has nothing at all to do with the fact Malfoy is out on a group date with his stunning girlfriend."

" _Fake_ girlfriend," she corrected in some foreign voice that was too shrill to be mistaken for calm composure. Harry's chuckle grated on her ears, and her jaw clenched as she kneaded, floured and pounded the ball of dough in a minute of irritated silence.

And Harry let her. One of the many reasons he would always be one of her dearest friends.

Her muscles started to ache from the physical exertion and she gave into the mounted sigh, blinking up at the wizard. "It's fine, Harry. It really is. I knew this would come up eventually; his mother has been dropping hints for ages for ages now at wanting a daughter-in-law and grandbabies, but I'm…" Her head bobbed as she toyed with the appropriate words in her head. "I'm not ready for Wizarding Britain to again have their say in one of my relationships—"

"Oliver Wood is still a famous and very highly celebrated Quidditch star!" Harry cut-in, the hint of a smirk ghosting across his face. "There was no hope of that ever being private, and I don't know how you presumed it could have been." She opened her mouth to protest, but the wizard invaded her space, slinging an arm over her shoulder and pulling her close for a brief side-hug. "There wasn't. And I'm sorry the breakup was plastered everywhere and you were blamed for the Falmouth's loss in the Quidditch Cup and England not even qualifying for the World Cup that year, but we both know that wasn't your fault. Even Oliver can't blame you. It's simply how it all worked out."

"I know." And she truly understood that on some logical level, but none of that mattered while nursing a broken heart and trying to glue the shattered pieces back together in peace, away from prying public eyes. Draco had been her friend before, during, and after the disaster that had been Oliver Wood, and in time the arms to hold her and cherish her. He'd become everything, and yet… "Look, we'll talk about it. We'll come to some sort of decision soon, because apparently Astoria has her own privacy she'd like to maintain for the time being, but for now, I am perfectly fi—"

" _Fine,"_ Harry chimed in, rolling his eyes. "Whatever you say, Hermione. If you think that dough's had enough pummelling and it's now time to let the gluten rest as the recipe states, I'll excuse myself to the loo. And I solemnly swear to not utter another word about Malfoy, relationships, fancy restaurants, or relationships when I return."

Hermione dismissed the wizard with as flippant a wave as she could muster, which was better than the vulgar gesture she considered for half-a-moment.

 _That_ clearly wouldn't have been fair, much less kind to her friend with her best interests at heart. Harry had only been asking, it was _she_ who'd been the one to get so emotional and worked up over her current situation… She certainly couldn't fault Harry for checking and double checking on her.

Not when it was all on her that Draco was currently out at some posh restaurant in Diagon Alley on some double date involving one Astoria Greengrass. One voluptuous and glamorous Astoria Greengrass with her heels, mile-long legs, always perfect hair, teasing eyebrow, and pouty lips…

And what the hell was she _doing_? Merlin! If she lost him to that beaming, perfect witch, it was all on her! He'd given subtle hints at not enjoying this from the beginning, being supportive of her need for timing all the while...

Hermione snatched up her wand with a growl, Apparating on the spot without a second thought of Harry, her dough ball, or her floury state of being.

She would _not_ lose the best thing to happen to her by her own stupidity! Not if she could help it!

* * *

Draco was _bored_.

Astoria kept looking down at her Muggle contraption she called a 'mobile', punching buttons and giggling when the contraption lit up.

Daphne, having been in an established relationship with Theo for going on three years now, had excused herself to discuss business with someone she'd caught sight of at the other end of the restaurant. And Theo had taken to attempting to folding his napkin into any animal he could think of…

His mind wandered to Hermione. Hermione who'd said she would be home trying to perfect this simple loaf bread recipe she found some weeks back. He imagined she'd be covered in flour by now, as usually happened when she baked.

For all the neatness and order the witch displayed when brewing potions, she really could _not_ keep herself or her workspace tidy in the kitchen.

And he _loved_ it. Salazar, he loved that about her. It was just one of those quirks that made his witch unique and he loved her, and this shite-show was just ridiculous when he wanted nothing more than to be—

"Draco," Theo hissed, yanking and tethering the wizard back to the present misery of the evening. His friend's eyes slid to the front window. "Look."

Draco did, and his heart soared. He beamed so hard his face would surely cracked under the strain of his smile, for his witch was _outside the restaurant_. Pacing the sidewalk, curls wild, and he could see flour all over her apron and sleeves from here…

"Order another basket of bread if the waiter comes back," he said, rising from his seat. "I haven't decided what to have yet…"

The world had shrunk to the strip of sidewalk as he found himself outside, watching his witch pace away, then turn around before her eyes locked onto his. He opened his mouth. "What are you doin—"

But he never got the chance to finish, as Hermione's hands where on his neck pulling him down to her eager lips before he could finish… Before he could call her 'love'. Before he could drink in the freckle spatter across her nose. Before he could marvel at her hair…

Her kiss was deep and insistent; claiming and branding as she moaned and threaded fingers through his hair and wrapped her other arm around his shoulders. He answered her enthusiasm with every ounce of pent up passion and insecurity he'd carried this evening. And every previous evening or passing when he'd lied to Narcissa Malfoy about his love-life.

He was lost to Hermione's lips and sighs and pants. His fingers dove deeper into her loose curls and she tasted like freedom and the future…

And he couldn't help the growl as she pulled away, breathing heavily. He pressed his forehead to hers, keeping her close, nuzzling his nose to hers. She'd come to him, and he'd be damned if he let her go without a proper explanation…

"Hey you," she managed, nipping and sucking at his lower lip again. "I don't have much time." Kiss to his jaw. "Harry's in the loo and I'm supposed to be fine and letting bread dough rest, and—" kiss to his cheek "—and, oh!" She yanked herself away, waving up and down the length of him. "I've got flour all over your fine shirt and trousers now. Here, let me…"

"Hermione." He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, keeping her from any sort of cleaning charm. He needed answers. "Why did you come here, love? What are you doing here right now?"

He watched as her throated bobbed in a thick swallow, her chocolate eyes boring into his, a glossy sheen coating them.

Her voice was so soft, yet it shattered the world as he knew it when she said, "I just wanted to see you." Her smile was sheepish and he knew there was more to it. "I needed to kiss you, and… I needed to see you, Draco. I couldn't wait any longer. That's all."

There was more. He knew there was more to it, but he couldn't fucking care for the moment, because Hermione had come here. She'd kissed him in the middle of the sidewalk.

And she'd come to him…

He smirked into her lips "That's all, huh?"

"Yes." She gave him her best swotty look as she flicked her wrist, removing all traces of flour and mess. "I suppose I'll leave you to your evening, then." With a dainty kiss to his cheek, she vanished from the sidewalk with a ' _pop_ ', leaving Draco to his shocked, stupid, but fucking happy grin.

Daphne was back at the table when he returned, her brow arched in question. "Does your witch not want to join us?"

Draco slipped back into his seat. "She's in the midst of a baking endeavour at the moment, but I'll pass along your regards if you'd like."

"I think our cover is likely blown now," Astoria sniffed, while Theo flashed a wicked grin.

"So," Theo started, eyes shifting to the large window and back to Draco, "she's fine?"

He could hardly contain a snort. Hermione was soft, glorious and passionate perfection. _Fine_ hardly sufficed… "Utterly and completely." Draco managed to answer, making silent plans to escape from this outing as quick as possible and hide away in his witch's flat for the duration of the weekend.

Astoria was right; their secret was probably out now… So, perhaps he and Hermione could decide together which establishment to brunch at Sunday morning to properly announce to the world that he was hers and she was his.

He decided to ignore the devious _looks_ exchanged by Daphne and Theo, focusing instead on the fact that it seemed he and Hermione were now both in agreement, both completely _fine_ , with everyone knowing it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Happy Birthday again, friend  
> xoxo


End file.
